“I love the way you look at me, like you don’t quite get me but are determined to figure me out I love how brave you are. I love how strong you are, how you always get back up. I love how honest and open you are, with your body and your heart”

Ethan Frost returns in the breathtaking conclusion to New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Tracy Wolff’s seductive novel Ruined—perfect for fans of Release Me and Bared to You.

Ethan Frost is everything a woman could want in a man. He’s rich, gorgeous, powerful, one of the most eligible bachelors in the world.

But that’s not why I’m with him.

I love Ethan for all the things no one else gets to see: his innate kindness, his reckless spontaneity, his unwavering determination to use his brilliance for good. I love the way he looks at me, the way he touches me. The way he makes me forget the wreckage of my past and the twisted fear that still lives inside me.

But sometimes it terrifies me how much I crave him, how much I need him just to breathe. I always thought it would be my past that ruined us, but there’s a darkness in Ethan I never dreamed existed. Can we survive as his secrets surface—threatening to unravel us both?

I love this book. I seriously adore it. I think I may be addicted to Ethan and Chloe, or maybe I’m just addicted to anything written by Tracy Wolff.

This book is a roller coaster ride of emotion. If you devour it as fast as I did, you are going to have to hang on for the ride. You might even get whiplash.

Like in the first book, there are ups and downs, good (more like amazing) and bad (more like devastating) as this relationship rides out the turmoil. Without wanting to spoil anything, the end is happy, and just right. The way to that happy ending is full of anguish, laughter, tears and happiness.

Ethan finally exposes some of his insecurities, which make him all the more endearing. Of course there are sizzling hot love scenes, and a few LOL moments between Chloe and her friends.

Personally, my absolute favorite part of the book was the conversation about the World Cup between Chloe and her work friends. I am Austin, and I feel 100% the same way as him about football. It made me laugh to read that scene, because I have had the exact same conversation with people I work with about what I call football and what people here call football. It’s only a couple of pages out of the book, so if football isn’t your thing, it won’t detract from your enjoyment of the book. Just happens to be the part that made me laugh, as there were other parts of the book that raised all sorts of other emotions.

I love Ethan, I love Tracy Wolff, and I highly recommend it to anyone.

When Ariel Fountain walks in on her boyfriend having sex with two of her friends, all the dreams and plans she’s made with him turn to dust. Angry, confused, and hurt, she doesn’t know what she’s going to do, but life tosses her another curve — her great aunt Blythe has died…leaving Ariel a very wealthy woman.

In taking possession of her inheritance, Ariel learns of the Legend of the Dead Tree. It seems her great aunt’s lover hung himself from the tree, but many believe it was not suicide.

When she meets Grady Tucker with his sexy bod and gorgeous dimples, Ariel is attracted to the handsome landscaper, but little does she know — she and Grady have a lot more in common that raging hormones. The past is about to rear its ugly head and change both their lives forever!

Excerpt

The engine of the Bobcat sputtered a few times before dying. Grady swore and climbed down from the machine. I watched him out of the corner of my eyes as he sauntered up the hill. His feet stopped right under my nose. “I have to run back to town and get some gas.”

I raised my head and stared at his gorgeous pale blue eyes. He surprised me by holding my gaze.

“Um, I think there’s some in the garage. I’ll check, if you’d like,” I offered. He was still watching me intently. I blinked and looked away. I reached behind me to push myself off the ground and immediately felt a searing pain in my left palm. I jerked my hand back and felt something warm trickle down my wrist. I’d just managed to impale my hand on the garden shears I’d laid in the grass behind me. “Damn.”

Grady knelt beside me, gently taking my hand in his. He inspected the wound, while I was too afraid to see how bad it was. Judging from the way it felt, it wasn’t good. “You’re gonna need stitches,” he said.

My eyes went round. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Ariel, I’m sure.” He quickly removed his t-shirt and wrapped it around my bleeding hand. I grimaced when I caught sight of the amount of blood trailing down my arm. “Hold it above your heart and apply pressure with your other hand.”

The edges of my vision went dark, and I thought I was going to pass out. Not from the loss of blood, I was squeamish when it came to the sight of blood. I whimpered and wobbled on my feet. “Oh, shit.”

Grady wrapped his arm around my waist and half carried me to his pickup. He opened the passenger door and helped me inside. “You okay?”

I shook my head no but said, “Yes.”

He laughed. “Hang in there.”

As it turns out, I had a pretty nasty gash. Fourteen stitches and some kick ass pain meds later, we were on our way back home. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Let this be a lesson,” he said.

I peered sideways at him. “A lesson? For what?”

“I told you, you jinxed yourself when you said you weren’t accident-prone, and look what happened.”

When we returned from town, Grady shut the truck off and jumped out. He hurried around to open my door and help. The warmth of his hand radiated through my tank top when he pressed it against my lower back and guided me toward the front door. “Let’s get you inside. I think it’s safe to say you can have the rest of the day off, Princess.”

The pain meds must have made me loopy, because I would never have said what I said next, had I been in my right frame of mind. “If I’m a princess, then you must be my knight in shining armor.”

Lori L. Clark was born in Iowa, where she spent the first forty-six years of her life. In 2007, she loaded up a moving van and relocated to Missouri, where she currently resides. Lori’s only child is a very spoiled Min Pin named Barkley. When not writing, she reads and runs. She completed her first half marathon at the age of fifty.

In 2009, after participating in NANOWRIMO, she began to take seriously the voices in her head. Two New Adult contemporary romance novels, Different Roads, and I Breathe You, were published in 2013, and showed early success. The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants is set to release in March 2014, and has her venturing into the realms of Romantic Suspense.

Lori is a member of Savvy Authors, the St. Louis Writers Guild, and Romance Writers of America.

The story is just incredible. It is so well written that you are pulled in from the first page and can’t put it down. I loved all the characters, but especially Rachel. I don’t want to give any spoilers away, but I wasn’t expecting the ending at all. Now that I finished reading, I realize that this was the perfect ending and that it couldn’t have ended any other way. But I was still completely taken by surprise.

The book is beautifully written, it’s an amazing story of friendship, heartache, family, loyalty and true love. This book made it to my “all time favorite books” list and is one that I will read again.

I can only compare this book to the effect “Beaches” and “Love Story” had on me. If you’re thinking about buying this book, so it now. You won’t regret it!

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Erika and Kim will be awarding a $15 Starbucks card to a randomly drawn winner during the tour via the rafflecopter at the end of this post.

Willamena Dunn is having a lousy week. Not only is her baby sister about to marry into the family of Dunn-Right Preservation’s biggest professional rival, but the historic bungalow of her dreams has just been bought by the most infuriating (not to mention exceedingly handsome and notoriously wicked) man to ever hammer a nail in Magnolia Bay, Knox Loveless.

But when Knox offers her a wager she can’t refuse, a bet with the coveted bungalow as its prize, Willa is sure her bad luck might finally be turning around—until Knox surprises her with a passionate kiss, and suddenly all bets are off.

Could this be just another one of Knox Loveless’ games, or will two rivals finally surrender to a long-simmering attraction and declare a truce once and for all?

Darcy Vance has sunk every cent she has into making Mimosa House the best bed and breakfast in Magnolia Bay. But the key to her success lies in the hands of the Historic Preservation Society run by the Bloom bitches who are embarrassed about their father’s connection to the storied house and they have no intention of validating it with a spot on the society’s registry.

After losing his PGA card, Trent Mauldin has come home to Magnolia Bay to lick his wounds and has no plans to stay. Until he falls for Darcy. Things heat up between the two until Trent’s good intentions to help Darcy go sideways. While Darcy works to save her house, Trent fights to win her back and keep her in Magnolia Bay for good.

As she marched up the bungalow’s uneven front steps, Willamena Dunn made a vow: No matter who stood on the other side of the cottage’s peeling door, she would not lose her temper.

Yes, it had crushed her very soul to learn that another buyer had outbid her for the historic home she’d dreamed of owning since she was old enough to blink. Yes, she’d said unspeakable things about whoever had dared to steal it out from under her when she’d learned the awful news the day before. But no, her personal feelings didn’t change her professional priorities.

No matter what, Willa wanted to ensure that the neglected house would finally get the restoration it deserved. As Staff Historian for Dunn-Right Preservation, her goal was to make sure the historic architecture of Magnolia Bay, South Carolina, was maintained and respected. Whoever had bought the nineteenth-century bungalow would have to understand the responsibility that came with owning a historic home in a landmarked district. And if they didn’t, Willa would gladly—and firmly—enlighten them.

Her older sister, Connie, hadn’t trusted Willa to carry out this introduction alone, too worried that she would let her passion for preservation override her professionalism. Willa had promised it would not.

She would be civil.

She would be courteous.

And, most importantly, she would not use foul language.

But that was before Willa stepped inside and saw the most infuriating man to ever hammer a nail in Magnolia Bay inspecting the crumbling green tile of the home’s fireplace surround.

“Knox Loveless, what the hell are you doing here?”

So much for promises.

“Good morning to you, too.” Knox stepped back from the fireplace and flashed Willa the same devilish grin he’d been flashing her nearly her whole life. At a little over six feet tall, blessed with hair that resembled poured molasses and eyes to match, he was a hard man to ignore—though God knew Willa had been trying long enough. “Here to welcome me to the neighborhood?” he asked.

Oh, that was a laugh! There was nothing fair or square about the way Loveless Brothers Construction did business, trying to shoehorn new homes in among the town’s most cherished historic properties. Their lack of regard for Magnolia Bay’s architectural history was one of the main reasons Willa’s mother, Lily, had opened the doors of Dunn-Right Preservation thirty years ago. Now the firm was known up and down the coast for its soup-to-nuts services to historic home owners. From contracting repair and restoration professionals, to filling out applications for tax credits, there was nothing Dunn-Right couldn’t or wouldn’t do to promote the well-being of Magnolia Bay’s rich architectural history and charm.

If only they could add Putting arrogant building developers out of business to that list.

Willa bristled at the nickname. He’d coined it for her when they were teenagers, claiming it was short for Willamena but she’d never quite believed him, and she’d certainly never liked it—which, of course, explained why Knox still used it.

Willa shifted her glare to the measuring tape on the windowsill. She’d hand him the tape, all right. Hand it right to the side of his miserable, underhanded skull. From this distance, she could get some serious speed.

“Get it yourself,” she said.

“Now don’t frown,” Knox said, sauntering across the floor to retrieve his tape measure. “You always get that cute little line right there between your eyebrows when you frown and then you pull at it all day to smooth it out.” He reached toward Willa as if intending to plant his finger on the exact point.

She swatted his hand away. “You do know this building is in a protected district and that any alterations you make will have to be approved by—“

“The Historical Society Board,” he finished for her, returning to the window. “Yes, I know. I’m on the board, remember?”

“You so rarely make an appearance at the meetings, I forget.”

He stretched the tape across the sash. “Now that’s not fair. I was there just last week.”

“And doodling on your handout the whole time.”

He grinned at her over his shoulder. “So you were watching me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Willa crossed her arms tightly, hoping to squeeze herself hard enough to slow down her racing heart. She blamed its rapid beat on the shock of finding Knox there—and not on his dimpled smile. The fierce topknot she’d secured of her wavy blond hair now wilted down one side of her head. She gave it an exasperated push to realign it. “Knox, there are plenty of old houses for sale in Magnolia Bay. Why did you have to take this one?”

“Because I like it.” He squinted to read the measure.

“Since when?”

Knox let the tape snap back into its casing. “Since I dared you to break into it when you were fourteen and I was sixteen, which—if I remember—resulted in you needing five stitches in a very tender place.” He looked at her thigh; Willa slapped her hand over the spot as if he could see through her jean shorts to the jagged scar underneath.

Kim Boykin is a women’s fiction author with a sassy Southern streak. She is the author of The Wisdom of Hair, Steal Me, Cowboy, and Palmetto Moon (Summer 2014.) While her heart is always in South Carolina, she lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her husband, 3 dogs, and 126 rose bushes.

Erika Marks is a women’s fiction writer and the author of LITTLE GALE GUMBO, THE MERMAID COLLECTOR, THE GUEST HOUSE and IT COMES IN WAVES (July, 2014). On the long and winding road to becoming published, she worked many different jobs, including carpenter, cake decorator, art director, and illustrator. But if pressed, she might say it was her brief tenure with a match-making service in Los Angeles after college that set her on the path to writing love stories (not that there isn’t romance in frosting or power tools!) A native New Englander, she now makes her home in Charlotte, NC, with her husband, a native New Orleanian who has taught her to make a wicked gumbo, and their two little mermaids.